There you were, phone clutched tight like it was the last lifeline. The screen flickered to life, and there he was – JJ. Still your lock screen after all this time.

Four months.

Four months since that last kiss, the one you didn't know would be your last. That fight… it just ripped you apart. He was a mess, yeah, always with the bottle, always bruised.

And you… you’d thrown those words at him, "burden," "selfish," "careless." As if he hadn't been there for you when you were falling apart.

But the truth was, you were just terrified. Sick with worry, but all that came out was anger. He was stubborn right back at you. Didn't mean the love just vanished, though. And God, you hoped he didn't hate you.

This feeling… it just wouldn't quit. He was always there, in the back of your mind, a constant hum.

Quarter after one now, the silence in your room screaming. You needed him. Swore you wouldn’t call, but here you were, fingers hovering, then pressing his number. First time in forever. Took a long sip of your beer as it rang…

And then he answered.

Just his breathing on the other end. At least he was breathing okay...

"Sixteen," you blurted out after what felt like an eternity of silence.

"What?" he asked, a little rough.

"You took sixteen breaths in the last minute," you explained.

"How many breaths do you take in a minute?" he asked.

"No idea. I was staring at a clock, and all I could hear was you breathing, so I just… counted." You paused then let out a shaky breath. "You answered."

"You called…" he said softly, like he’d been holding his breath the whole time he saw your name pop up.

Guess you'd both rather hurt than feel nothing at all, huh? Maybe you two just rather fight for each other, even if it hurts, than lose each other and hurt even more.